TOW the Consequences of London
by justanotherfic
Summary: Monica is reminded of what happend that night in London and what came out of it. Set almost seven years after TOW Ross says Rachel. Minor changes in all chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Taking a break from doing the bills, I let my eyes rest on my son, Daniel, who is sitting across the table from me. He is working intently on drawing a heart on a piece of paper; in fact, he's busy making his very first Valentine's Day-card. Catching me looking at him he gives me a smile. His smile is just like his father's and it has always made me feel happy. He holds up the drawing so that I can properly see the bright red and pink heart that he has just spent half an hour creating.

"That is very pretty, Daniel!" I tell him encouragingly, and his grin grows a little wider. He wipes off-mindedly at his fringe to keep the messy black-brown hair from his eyes and returns to carefully typing a message under the heart. He has spent the afternoon with his aunty Rachel and his two cousins Ted and Hannah, and I have no doubt that it is from Rachel that he has got the idea of making a card. "Who is it for?" I know very well that asking that question to a six-year-old, particularly _my_ six-year-old, might cause smaller tantrums, stomping on the floor and slamming of bedroom doors. Not an ideal situation. Still, he keeps smiling.

"It's for Clara." He tells me, and signs his name neatly on the paper. "She just started in my class, and she's got blue eyes and brown hair and she speaks funny." I ponder for a second what he might mean by saying that she speaks funny, but since the fact doesn't seem to bother my son particularly, I decide that it won't matter to me either. "She's only five, but she's in our class because she's very smart." I smile at his little story, glad that he has found a new friend, a friend that I am pretty sure he really needs, and he hands me his drawing. It reads 'To my best friend Clara from Danny'; I smile at him and compliment him a little more. Then I go to get him an envelope to put it in. He is twiddling a pen between his fingers when I return. His smile is gone, and he seems to be thinking about something; once again he's far off into his thoughts; doodling indecipherable figures on another piece of paper. It hurts me a little every time he goes off to wherever he goes off to, because I know that he does it partly because of decisions I have made for us in the past. I look at him for a little while; his doodles resemble a man now, and I flinch. It is the man he has never met, doesn't know the real name of, but still has always longed for. To avoid the tears, the guilt of hurting my son in a way I know he can never forgive me for, I turn back to the bills, furiously scribbling down the all too high numbers.

"H-have you ever loved someone, mom?" His voice breaks through my thoughts, it's weak, and I can tell that he is embarrassed from the way that he stares pointedly at his crayons that are now organized by color and back in their box. I clear my throat, not really sure what to tell him.

"Of course honey." My voice comes out soft and quiet, and I reach for his hand across the table. "You know that I love you, right? A-and uncle Ross, and aunt Rachel…" He shakes his head and I stop before he can interrupt me.

"Not that kind." He snaps, and if it hadn't been for the fact that I really think that I deserve being snapped at, I would have told him off. "Y'know, the other kind…" I nod that indeed I know what he means and he meets my gaze. "D-did you love my dad?" I don't answer immediately, because, quite frankly, I don't have a simple answer. Did I love Daniel's father? On some level I suppose I did. He was one of my best friends; I had known him for well over ten years and I hadn't been able to imagine my life without him; but did I love him romantically? I think back to that night in London, when we had accidentally made Daniel. I would be lying if I said that it wasn't one of the best nights in my life, damn, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't on my top three. Not so much because I know that during one of those seven times, Daniel was conceived, but because it was him, it was Chandler and he had made me feel like I was whole again. Like if my mother and her harsh words didn't exist; like if the future still lay before me – marriage, husband, children and a nice green house on Long Island. I suppose I loved, and will always love him for the way he made me feel that night; but I can't love him for the way he treated me afterwards. We decided, together I might add, that our friendship was too valuable to lose over good sex. I didn't know that I was pregnant then, or else things might have turned out differently. It was awkward. I had seen him naked, and actually enjoyed it; I had had the best sex of my life with him and I was supposed not to feel differently about him? A week after returning from London, Chandler and I had barely said a word to each other. Three days after that, he announced that he was back together with Kathy. A month later he was gone from the Village and I realized that I was pregnant.

"Mom?" Daniel's annoyed voice drags me back to reality and I shake my head mentally. "Mom, did you love him?" I look into his eyes, they could easily be Chandler's, but just as easily they could be mine, and I smile a little.

"Yes, honey, I loved him. He was one of my best friends." There are a million questions in my son's eyes, and I know that he needs answers to them one day; I know that I should have made sure that he never needed to ask them at all, but I also know that it is too late for me to change things now. We are good, just him and me. Monica and Daniel. Two souls against the rest of the world.


	2. Chapter 2

I dream of him sometimes. I feel his hands running across my face, my breasts, my sides, my stomach. His lips are soft against mine and I wallow in his adoration of my body. I don't love him; I know that the thought is ridiculous. This is a man I have not seen for seven years, admittedly one of my best friends, but not someone I desperately wanted to be with me for the rest of my life. Since it was only that night, and since my thoughts of him during the weeks following our return from London mostly centered on the sex part, I cannot even know if I had a crush on him. Still, eight years later, I want him.

He broke my heart when he left, even though I'm not sure I would have wanted to have a relationship with him, had he stayed. Considering he had made me pregnant, I'm not even sure he would have wanted to stay, and I am much happier knowing that he didn't actively choose not to be involved in his son's life. I need that control. My existence depends on it. It would have hurt too much to hear him say that he wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility. I know that he enjoyed our night in London as much as I did, even though it ruined our friendship, and I don't regret it because I got Daniel, and I would hate for him to wish it undone. Still, all of this is fairly easy for me to say. He lost his five best friends because of that night, and I still have them. I think of the look he wore in his eyes the day he came to tell us that he was moving in with Kathy. I know he was scared. I was scared. There were issues unsolved between all six of us, and it felt like we would all slip apart. We were all busy doing our own thing. Ross was trying to get back in touch with Emily, at all costs; Rachel was still trying to deal with her feelings for Ross; Phoebe was busy preparing to give birth to triplets; Chandler and I were occupied with trying to pretend nothing had happened in London; and Joey was just caught in the middle as usual. I just never expected it to be over so suddenly. Boom, and there just five of us. Then there was Daniel…

I hear a slight knock on my bedroom door, and I edge up on my elbows. Without asking permission my son hurries over to the other side of the bed and tucks himself underneath the covers. He snuggles into my arms, and without a word, drifts back to sleep. I hold him tight, recognizing the fact that he is all that is left of my past. He is all that is left of the group of six we once were. In him I see his father, his two aunts and his two uncles. When he smiles he reminds me of how happy we were once, the six of us, back in the days when we were still all together. I pull my hand through Daniel's blackish hair and for the thousandth time this evening I ask myself if I really have a right to keep his father away from him. Is that what a good mother would do to her son? Do I want to seriously consider myself a bad mother? He deserves to know. They both do.

He inches closer to me and I try to fold him in my arms like I did when he was younger. He is getting too big to protect, and I know that I can't keep up my charade forever. However, there is safety in my lies, and it comforts me. When it comes to the important things; we are good, Daniel and me. Getting Chandler involved now will only make everything so much more complicated. I feel a tear slipping down Daniel's cheek and onto my arm; it burns like fire as it rolls onto the mattress. No matter how good we are together, there is something fundamental missing in my son's life, and I know that because I am responsible for it missing. Every child should have both their parents, and I want only what is best for my little boy. Still, it feels too late to change anything now.


	3. Chapter 3

I give a very small sigh, and look away from the fashion magazine Rachel and I are flipping through. My brother is seated on the couch with his eldest son and his nephew, eagerly going through old photo albums. Our past intrigues both Ben and Daniel a great deal, as if they have a hard time accepting that we had a life before them. I suppose that they have chosen an album from when Ben was a baby; they often do when Ben comes to visit and the two boys are incessantly asking Ross questions.

"Is that Uncle Chandler too, dad?" I hear Ben ask and my brother quickly confirms it. I wonder quietly what goes through Daniel's mind when he looks at a picture of Chandler. Does he notice the fact that he and the man from my past have a number of features in common? Does he look into his own eyes as he looks into Chandler's? Can he see that Chandler's mouth quirks into a smile in the exact way that his own mouth does? Can my friends see it? I know that Rachel and Phoebe can.

"Do you ever wonder what our lives would have been like if he had stayed?" Rachel's voice brings me back from my thoughts and I turn my attention to her. "Chandler, I mean." I nod imperceptibly, unsure of what to answer. Would he have stayed and tried his best to be a dad to our son if I had told him? Would he have had feelings for me, like I had feelings for him?

"Yeah." I answer, non-committed, and look back at my son. Would he have been happier if he had had a father? Would he have had more friends? Would he have been someone different? "But I always sort of figured that he would be the first to leave. Either him or Phoebe." Rachel nod and we turn back to the magazine. I know that there are things she wants to ask me. Things she needs to have confirmed. I know it will be hard not to lie to her.

"Do you wish he had stayed?" I know where Rachel is going with her questions. She wants me to admit that Chandler is Daniel's father. We have played this game a countless amount of times in the past. For the very first time, though, I really ponder the question. Yes, I wished he had stayed, because he was my friend. If he had stayed, Daniel would have known the man that was his father, even though I am not entirely sure I would have been able to tell Chandler that Daniel was his son as well. If he had stayed, I might have been able to work through my feelings for him, or accept them. Life is good without him, but if he had stayed, everything might have been so much better.

"Yes." I tell Rachel, and she looks surprised at my straightforward answer. "I wish Chandler had stayed… because I needed him. Daniel needed him." The world seems to stop around me and I realize that my voice rang out loud and clear, and that I did not whisper as I intended to. Ross looks at me from the couch; Rachel's hand slowly finds mine and I feel her squeeze it. I meet my son's confused gaze. I know that he doesn't understand the meaning of what I just said. I know that he is just scared because his uncle stopped talking mid-sentence to look at me. Scared because I am crying, and Rachel looks worried. He is scared because his uncle is looking mad; and how is he supposed to know that Ross isn't angry with him, or with me, or with anyone in the room.

"Daniel needs Chandler!" Ross voice sounds weird as it breaks the silence of the room. Ben looks uncomfortable, and as Ross practically throws the photo album down on my coffee table my son starts to cry. "Why? Why, why, why… would Daniel need Chandler?" As the truth starts sipping through the perfect lie I have promoted all these years, I feel my barriers break down. Rachel's hand is on my back now, and even though tears are running down my face and I feel like I can barely breathe, I don't make a move. Ross keeps blurting out questions and I just want to make him stop. When I don't answer him he storms out the window to the balcony.

"Ben?" Rachel's voice is soft and calm, a relief after Ross' strong words. I can't bear to look at my nephew, because I know that he is doing his best trying to comfort my son right now. Rachel fumbles with her purse and gets out a few bills. "Ben, honey, would you please take your brother and sister and your cousin and go across the hall to your uncle Joey and tell him that I want him to take you guys out for an ice cream." I look up to see her help her children get their clothes on; Ted and Hannah look scared too, but she keeps whispering to them and soon they are smiling again. Daniel is still sitting on the couch; I can see the top of his head sticking up over the back of it. Ben pries him off it, and I am eternally grateful to the boy. As Rachel rushes them through the door, I meet Daniel's gaze to tell him that everything will be fine. He still looks scared, but I know that he is looking forward to an ice-cream. He waves as he closes the door, trying on a little smile, and as the door closes with a soft thud, I explode with tears again.

"Oh, hun, I'm so sorry!" Rachel whispers as she pulls me into her arms. "I didn't mean to…" And I know she didn't. We both knew that she knew; and we both knew that Ross would, under all circumstances, be better off not knowing. I nod, trying to let her know that I don't blame her. I could, after all, have played along with the charade for a while longer, at least until Rachel and I were alone. She holds me until I run out of tears. I release myself from her arms, and we sit for a few minutes and just look at each other.

"So he really is Daniel's father, huh?" Rachel says after a while and all I can do is smile. She looks doubtful, but then her lips break into a smile like my own and I give her a hug. The relief of finally not having to lie any longer makes the contents of the truth seem less irrelevant. Ross stomps back trough the living room, and as I look up at him I know that he is not ready to forget about anything.

"Why would Daniel need Chandler, Mon?" I look up at him and I realize that he really seems to be confused. "He's already got me and Joey, what good w-would Chandler do?" My eyes go foggy again at the mentioning of Chandler, and Rachel gives a loud sigh.

"For god's sake, Ross!" She snaps, clearly annoyed, and I bend my head, prepared for the truth, brutally delivered by an irritated Rachel Green. "You're not really that stupid, are you? Chandler is Daniel's dad." There is a tiny, tiny hint of triumph in her voice, but I forget all about it as my brother flops down on the kitchen chair next to me.

"_Chandler_ is Daniel's _dad_?" I wonder if his words seem as weird to him as they do to me and I look up to meet his gaze. I always imagined that he would be angry. That he would vow to hunt Chandler down and kill him on the spot. But right now, he looks more like if I had just torn his world apart and left him sitting in the rubble. He looks into my eyes, and as he does, I know that he realizes that they aren't the same as Daniel's, there is a certain difference, and then it seems to dawn on him. "Oh, my god!" He whispers, and I almost feel sorry for him. "Oh my god, is that why he left?"

"No." I whisper, and the words that come out of my mouth seem crueler than they ever have in my head. "He doesn't know." Suddenly, they are both staring at me, and I realized that even though they would have hated Chandler for abandoning me with a child, this was just one bit worse.

"_He doesn't know?_" Rachel's words echo mine, and her hand is gone from mine. I feel cold all of a sudden. I am scared. Do they think that I am a bad mother? I know that I do, but do they? "Were you ever planning on telling him?" I fiddle with the edge of the table cloth, and Rachel asks me again: "Were you going to tell him?"

"I don't know." I admit. "Look, I didn't find out I was pregnant until he had moved to the house with Kathy, and it wasn't as if we were in a relationship or anything." I wait for them to say something, but I realize that they are waiting for me to tell them the whole story. "There was just one night. In London. After the rehearsal dinner. I was feeling a little depressed because a man thought that I was your mother, and then mom kept making comments about the fact that I didn't have a boyfriend, but Chandler was being really sweet to me. I really needed to feel loved that night, and Chandler, well… um, he gave me that." Rachel's hand finds mine again, and I smile weakly at her. "We decided to leave behind what happened that night. But it was never the same. He might have left because of that, but he didn't abandon us." I look up at them, and meet my brother's gaze. He looks away and hurries to get on his feet.

"I need some air." He tells us, and Rachel nods. "I can't… I don't really know how to deal with this right now." He grabs his coat, and slams the door shut. I lean into Rachel's embrace, and even though we both have things we need to say, we just stay at the table, thinking about all the things that could have been different.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mom?" My son pulls on the sleeve of my jacket as I fight to open our mailbox. Three grocery bags surround me, and I still have one in my arms, my purse hangs from the hook of my arm together with three shopping bags. I am annoyed to say the least. "Mom? Can I get a yo-yo? Clara's brother has a yo-yo, and he showded me all the tricks you can do, and I want one mommy, please can I have one?" I struggle to lock the mailbox again, my arm tired of lifting all the bags. I throw the key band around my neck and bend to get the rest of the bags. I find Daniel rummaging through the one I put the eggs in.

"Daniel!" I reprimand, and his blue eyes center on mine. He looks innocent and he puts on a smile. He tells me that he only wanted a grape. "Later, honey." I give a sigh and kneel down to lift up the bags. I wish to God that he would either give me another pair of arms, or make grocery bags with handles.

"Oh, but mommy, I really wanted a grape." He sulks and runs up the stairs ahead of me, I take it slow, my arms feel like they are going to fall off, and I wonder why an elevator would be so wrong to install. So what if they would have to use Joey's entire bathroom? I sigh and start on the last flight of stairs. "Hey!" I hear my son say, and I wonder briefly to whom. "You're in mommy's photo album!" I stop dead in the middle of the stairs, and my thoughts race.

"Yeah, I suppose I am." Chandler's soft voice answers and I force myself to take another step. I need to prevent the catastrophe before it happens. Chandler is not supposed to be here; he's not supposed to talk to Daniel. He's not supposed to be in our lives any more. I need the control of where Chandler is or isn't.

"You're Ben's uncle Chandler!" My son pronounces proudly and I take the last few steps up to the landing. Daniel is smiling up at Chandler, and Chandler looks shocked. I don't know what to do. "Look, mommy!" My son notices me and I put on a half-smile. Chandler turns around slowly. "Look, it's Ben's uncle Chandler!" He says, beaming with pride. I keep my eyes fixed on my son, who is bouncing up and down, and gesturing at the newcomer.

"Monica." Chandler says quietly, and I force myself to look at him. His eyes look hurt, and I realize with dread that he knows. Someone has told him my secret, and now he knows. He knows that the bouncy kid at his feet is his son. He knows that I have kept that fact a secret for seven years. I try a weak smile, but he doesn't return it.

"Chandler." I stutter out, and he looks away a little. I put the bags down and fumble with the keys in the lock. Daniel looks at me weirdly, and I sense that he is a little apprehensive of the stranger named Chandler now that he sees that he makes me nervous.

"I need to talk to you." Chandler tells me as I let my son inside the door. I only nod. I put the rest of the bags down on the floor and I close the door slightly. "We can't do this here." He says; his words and his tone short. I bend my head.

"Then I need to put the groceries away." I tell him and he makes a sound almost as if he was snorting at me. "They'll go bad." I meet his gaze and he shrugs, I open the door, asking him to come in. He hesitates for a second, but then he walks in, back to his past. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, not offering me any help with my bags. Daniel comes skipping out from his room, a happy smile on his face.

"Mommy, may I have a grape now?" He asks, and I stare at him dumbfounded for a few seconds. "Grapes, mommy?" He asks again, tilting his head. His smile fades when I don't return it, and he looks wearily at Chandler. I get some grapes out of the bag, and I wash them under the sink. "When's dinner mommy? Is he staying for dinner?" He sends Chandler a look and I meet Chandler's gaze. He shakes his head slowly.

"No." I tell my son, and he looks a little pleased, but he doesn't say anything. He plops down on the couch and gets his Playstation out from underneath the coffee table. Out of the corner of my eye I see Chandler turn slightly and look at Daniel. I feel guilty. Wouldn't Chandler have made a great father if I had told him? Wouldn't he have shaped up and taken his responsibility? I suppose now that he would have. I open the fridge to put some of the groceries in, Chandler turns back to face me.

"Your brother called me yesterday." He tells me all of a sudden and his voice startles me a little. The admission doesn't surprise me in the least. I figured that he had heard it from Ross, considering the fact that my brother has been refusing my calls for the past week since I told him the truth. I close the fridge door. He stands up and takes a few steps towards me. I feel myself shrink away. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" I meet his gaze. He still looks crushed. I give a loud sigh.

"Yes." I answer, and Chandler looks a little surprised. I let my gaze wander to my son. _Our_ son, I correct myself in my head. "I just can't do it when he's here." Chandler's gaze travels back to Daniel. It stays there for a little while and I wonder what goes through his head. "If you stay for dinner, we can talk after I've put Danny to bed."

"I need to go home." I curse at myself for not realizing that he might have a family by now, a wife and kids, even though I never pictured him to be that kind of man. I give a sigh, and open the fridge again. I take out some more grapes and a meatball sub I picked up on the way home.

"Danny?" I call out and he obediently pause his game and turns around on the couch. "I need to talk to Chandler, could you go across the hall to Uncle Joey's?" He looks at me and then at Chandler. I wonder how he doesn't notice how similar they look. "Here's a meatball sub to keep him happy, and here're some more grapes for you." He gives an audible sigh, but turns the Playstation off, puts it back under the table neatly, and makes his way to the kitchen table. Chandler gives him a small smile. "And Danny, please do us a favor and don't tell Uncle Joey that Chandler is here. Can you do that, sweetie? It's important that we get to talk in private." Daniel looks up at me and then eyes Chandler.

"It's okay. I'm just going to talk to your mom." He says, and puts on a smile that could have fooled me. Daniel smiles back a little and moves for the door. As he grabs the handle he, turns back, and smiles innocently.

"If I don't tell Uncle Joey anything, I want ice cream for dessert." I don't normally crumble under blackmailing, but today, I buy anything he offers.

"It's a deal." I relent, and Daniel skips out the door. Chandler stares at me for a long time after Daniel has shut the door behind him. I know that he waits for me to say something, but I don't know where to start.

"So, eh… Are-are you still with Kathy?" I stumble over the words, but I need to know how many lives I have destroyed by keeping this from him; mine, Chandler's and Daniel's aside. Is he married? Has Daniel got half-brothers or sisters? Did he ever think of me? Of what we could have had? Of that wonderful night in London? Did he ever, like me, regret our decision to leave it behind; to write it off as a thing we only did in London?

"God, no." He answers after a bit; obviously having to think a little to follow my train of thought. "No, she cheated on me again, but that's ages ago." I look at him, feeling a little sorry for him, and I wonder if things could have been different. He doesn't seem to want to say anything else no matter how much I look at him. I give a small smile. Why does he have to make this so hard? Something in the back of my head tells me that it would have been so much easier seven years ago. I truly regret not doing this then. Still, I need to know how many lives I will ruin now.

"Do you… I mean, are you married?" He snaps his head up to meet my gaze. I sigh and sit down at the table across from Chandler. "Look, I know I should have done this seven years ago, but I didn't, and I'm so, so sorry for that, but I can't do it now if I don't know anything about you. Are you married? Do you have kids? How many more lives have I screwed up?" He shakes his head sadly, but still there is a small smile on his face.

"I was married, but I'm not now. I guess, maybe, that I'm not really the kind of guy who marries, you know." He stops talking, almost mid-sentence as if he realizes that he is giving a bit too much information to someone who he has not seen for seven years. "No kids." He adds, as an afterthought, and then opens his mouth to add something else, but he can't really seem to find words, so he gives up.

"I'm sorry." I tell him, and he looks away a little. "I'm sorry for everything." He turns to face me again, and I can see that he is sad.

"Look, just tell me if Ross was telling me the truth or not. I j-just need to know." As I meet his gaze, I can see that this has really bothered him, maybe even kept him up since he talked to Ross on the phone. The fact makes the guilt rise further in my throat. "Monica?" He demands and I fight to find the words. "Is he really… y'know… is Daniel…er... mine?" I close my eyes hard to the dizzying thoughts which swivel through my head. I bite my teeth together not to gag, and I force myself to take deep breaths.

"Yes." I manage weakly and Chandler stumbles from his chair and over to the couch. "I'm sorry, Chandler. I-I guess I thought that I was making the right decision at the time." He looks like he wants to yell at me. He looks as if he wants to cry, and turn back the time and make things right. The way things were supposed to be. He stumbles towards the door, and quickly swings it open. "Chandler?" I ask, the panic I feel inside tinting my voice. He stops in the door way and turns his head to face me. There are tears on his face, and I feel bad. I feel worthless. I am cruel.

"I would have wanted to know, Monica." He says quietly, but still clearly, and I don't really know what to do with myself. "I wanted to know…" He whispers once more before he closes the door carefully and makes his way down the stairs. When I can no longer hold the breath I was holding, I break into tears. I could have had the life I always wanted, with the man I never knew I wanted, and I threw it away because I was afraid of being rejected. I decide that I need to tell Daniel that his father isn't a chef from Philadelphia I met at a convention, and who never gave me his real number. I need my son to know the truth, because I am determined to not ever let Chandler get away again.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own this.

A.N: Sorry for the long wait. I got stuck, then lost interest in Friends as such, but after an email I recieved today, inspiration just came to me. Here you go. TWO CHAPTERS UP TODAY.

Daniel pops a grape into his mouth and I watch him poke at the ice cream with his spoon. I take a deep breath and I close my eyes briefly. I wonder how he will react to finding that Chandler, and not Simon Porter, is his dad. I wonder if he will hate me, and I decide that it is fine if he does. He doesn't need to understand or forgive; the important thing is that he knows.

"How's the ice cream, honey?" I ask, the nervousness I feel seeping through to my voice. Daniel looks up, and smiles, popping another grape into his mouth. He tells me that it's 'd'licis' and I reach over with my fork to grab a tiny piece ice cream from his bowl. "Danny?" He is playing with his spoon, pretending that it is a chopper, and he makes it hover above his ice cream mountain and a grape and a chocolate fish miraculously jump on board with a little help from his fingers. "Don't play with you food, honey!" I reprimand, and he gives me an innocent smile. I hand him a napkin and he obediently wipes the ice cream off his fingers. "Sweetie, there something we need to talk about." He fidgets around on his chair, and refuses to meet my gaze.

"I didn't mean to." He tells me, still not meeting my eyes, and I have no idea what he is talking about. "He wouldn't stop, a-and he said that… he said mean things about you, mommy… and I hit him." He looks up from underneath his fringe and I can see that he is crying. Without warning he bolts into my arms and I hug him tight. "He said that I didn't have a dad because… because you didn't know who it is…" My son clings to my chest, his arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

"Ssshh, sweetie." I tell him softly even though the anger is bubbling within me. "Who told you that?" I feel bad because even though the allegations are wrong, I am the main factor behind the fact that my son doesn't know his dad. I am also upset because, even in our modern society, my son isn't completely accepted by his friends because he only has one parent. The fact that my son hit a class mate seems insignificant compared to the other things going on right now, and I know that Daniel would never hit someone unless provoked.

"Julian." He says, and I search my memory of a kid named Julian, but I come up empty-handed. "He-he's in third grade…" I hug Daniel tighter, and he wipes his cheek against my shirt. "He said that you were a bad lady…" His voice cracks a little and despite wanting to go out and strangle little Julian, I merely hug my son tighter. The accusation, even though it comes from an eight year old, hurts, because I know that he wouldn't just have made it up, he must have heard it from some one else. Probably his parents. I take a deep breath and rub my son's back comfortingly.

"It's not true, Daniel." I tell him softly. "I know your father. In fact I know him very well." Daniel looks up at me, and I see that he is confused. I know that what I tell him now differs quite a bit from the story I told him once before. He looks just as confused as when I told him that I loved his father, even though I had previously claimed only to have known him for two days. "You remember when I told you about your daddy, right?" He nods a little and I move him from one leg to the other. "I lied, Daniel." I whisper, and he looks hurt and even more confused.

"He isn't my dad?" He asks, and forces his way out of my lap and back onto his own chair. He starts messing with his grapes and ice cream again. I shake my head, and Daniel frowns.

"No, I didn't tell you the truth. See, your dad was a very close friend of mine. He went to college with Uncle Ross, and I've known him since then. He used to live with Uncle Joey, right across the hall." Daniel looks doubtful, and he seems deep in thought. I study his face for a few seconds, and I wonder again how he will react to the truth. "Honey?" I ask, just to get his full attention, and his gaze focuses on mine. "Listen carefully now, Ben's Uncle Chandler, the man who came by earlier, he is your dad." Daniel shakes his head in confusion, or denial, or just plain shock.

"No." He says, stubbornly. "If he's my dad, why didn't he ever come see me?" I take his hand, but he still refuses to look at me.

"You shouldn't blame him for that. I never told him about you, until today." My son throws a tantrum then. I sit frozen to my chair as he flings his plate off the table, and I don't say a word as it crashes to floor and breaks into a million pieces. He topples over his chair, staring at me defiantly. I don't say a word; I let him rage, even as he knocks over the lamp by the phone table. The bang of his door slamming shut echoes through the room, but after the sound has died down all I can hear is his cries. Only then do I move. I pick up the pieces of the broken plate and mop up the ice cream from the floor. I pick up the lamp from the floor, placing it where it used to be. Then, while listening to his wild sobbing I sit down on the couch in the living room. I feel like I don't have any right to intrude on his rage, I don't wish to corner him if he can't stand me.

He comes out of his room in the middle of the night, and stands in the doorway glancing at me where I am sitting on the couch, glaring at the turned off television.

"I'm sorry I broke the plate, mommy." He says, looking embarrassed. I look away from the blank screen, and focus on him. I am shocked by how small he looks. How incredibly innocent he seems, standing there in his pajamas, head bent down slightly in shame. I open my mouth to say something, unconsciously moving to the edge of the couch. I feel so bad for hurting him. He launches himself into my arms suddenly and I press his small weight as close to my body as I possibly can.

"Don't be sorry, Danny." I tell him, my voice weak and shaky. "I don't mind the plate, and it's really mommy who should be sorry." He presses his tear wet face into my shoulder and I rub his back. "Mommy is sorry, honey. So very sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: not mine.

A:N: second chapter up today. this is the definite end. enjoy. please review.

Three weeks later Daniel sits nervously next to me on a park bench in Central Park. He is clutching a red yoyo in his hands, but he doesn't spin it. We are waiting for Chandler. Daniel's dad. It is the first time they meet since the day Chandler came to the apartment. Daniel refused to see him at first, but my brother and Joey had a little chat with him, and he eventually warmed to the idea. I reach out absentmindedly to correct his dark hair that is ruffled by the wind. He, just as absentmindedly, swats my hand away. He and I both spot Chandler entering the park at a nearby gate. Daniel shifts a little on the bench, clutching the yoyo tighter in his hand.

"My tummy feels funny, mommy." He says, and I give him a short hug, explaining to him that it's because he's a little nervous, and that it will pass soon. He nods obediently, and looks down as Chandler walks up to us. I stand up, Daniels hand clutched in mine, even though he is still sitting. I greet Chandler, and give my son a big hug, telling him that I will go for a short walk. He looks scared as his gaze moves between me and Chandler, but then he nods again. I glance back at them over my shoulder as I walk a bit further down the lawn behind the bench before sitting down under a nearby tree. All I can see are their backs, but it is all I need to see to know that they are equally nervous.

"Hey!" Chandler says, and I can see him holding out his hand slightly tentatively. "I'm Chandler." Daniel looks up from his yoyo and hesitantly grips Chandler's hand.

"I'm Daniel." He says, looking up at the unknown yet so incredibly familiar face of the older man. Chandler smiles then, telling the boy that he is very happy to meet him. Daniel nods again, shy as always. Chandler reaches for the paper bag he had placed next to him on the bench, holding it out for Daniel.

"Here, I got you a present." As always when given something, Daniel's eyes lights up, and he smiles, accepting the gift. He opens it carefully to reveal a notebook, colored pencils and a fancy looking ballpoint pen. He smiles at the man next to him on the bench. Chandler smiles back. "Your aunty Rachel told me that you like to write and draw, and I thought…" He opened the notebook for Daniel to see. "You can draw pictures on the top half." He said, pointing. "And then you can write on the bottom half. Like in a real book." He said; his voice not quite as sure of himself as when he started the sentence. "But… I mean, if you'd rather have something else…" He is cut off by the small shake of Daniel's head.

"Thank you." He says, shyly, daring to meet Chandler's gaze. "I really like it." I watch, teary eyed from behind the tree as my son reaches up to give his dad a hug. Chandler seems touched by the gesture and awkwardly ruffles the boy's hair. They go on to talk about their new found common interest of writing and drawing, and I delight in their bonding. Deep down in my heart I find that there still seems to be some hope of restoring the mess I have made.

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It is just a split second in time. I catch a glimpse of them as I turn from the kitchen counter; like a snapshot, a freshly made Polaroid, taken and delivered to me instantly. Chandler sits at the head of the table, his face one of utter confusion and disbelief. It looks as if he wonders, as he looks out over the chaotic breakfast table, how he even got there in the first place. On his right is Daniel, brooding over the New York Post, spreading the paper over half the surface of the table. He is fourteen now, busy outgrowing his skin and trying to keep up with the world. On Chandler's left is six year old Jacob, his face resting tiredly in his right hand, his left hand pulling at the sleeve of Chandler's shirt. My seat is opposite the table from Chandler. It is a seat usually only occupied when no one in my dear family requires my services. On my left, next to Daniel, is three year old Martha. The entire sleeve of her pajama shirt is tucked in her mouth; her eyes are big with wonder as she chews on it slightly while looking at the pictures in the paper Danny is reading. On my right, in a padded high chair is, finally, Toby. He is the only one who resembles some sort of normalcy, even though he has just learnt to sit up straight, doesn't eat solid food and barely sleeps through the night. Apart from him, the scene before me is one of complete chaos, but the mere feeling of being a family, a real family, beats the fact that the chaos makes me panic slightly. Chandler catches me looking at them and the frozen instant breaks. Quickly he orders his children to put the paper away, sit up straight, and _please_ stop eating their clothes. My smile grows wider as I put the bread down on the table, and sit down in my chair.

"I love you!" Chandler mouths over the racking of our eldest sons attacking the food in front of them. I smile and mouth the words back to him before turning my attention to Martha and Toby. We are finally a family.


End file.
